


too deep, too fast

by lavenderet



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Blow Jobs, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Friends With Benefits, Hand Jobs, M/M, hifugoro exes but they're still close friends, makogoro are siblings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-17
Updated: 2019-11-24
Packaged: 2020-03-07 17:41:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 15,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18878044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lavenderet/pseuds/lavenderet
Summary: It's just bad habit, Goro tells himself. Like smoking or doing drugs. Nothing deep to it. Nothing at all. It justfeelsgood.Which, incidentally, is what brings him here.(Alternatively: Goro and Ren are rivals with benefits, and Goro is in over his head.)





	1. guessing games

**Author's Note:**

> so......... hi. i'm back to my roots 
> 
> despite what it looks like this is just a fun little college au. it's not even supposed to be that sexy. anyways i hope u enjoy

Amongst the worst decisions Goro’s ever made in his life, this one takes the cake.

He’s not sure where it begins—him on his knees in one of the bathroom stalls, half of Ren’s dick stuffed down his throat, or maybe when Ren trapped him against the door of his car to jerk them off to the sound of some tasteless rock band Ren likes—but regardless, it’s dragged on long enough that Goro forgets the petty details. Now every debate, every quarrel derails into lips against lips and hands inside pants and someone against the wall, or pressed into the floor, or face-first on the mattress, and the cycle repeats.

Goro isn’t sure why he allows it to continue past their first clumsy encounter. It doesn’t help his grades, nor does it relieve any monumental level of stress, so he’s kind of at a loss here. Nevertheless, he accustoms himself to the late night texts asking for a quick fuck, to appearing at Ren’s place unannounced to blow off steam after a dumb argument with his sister. It’s just bad habit, he tells himself. Like smoking or doing drugs. Nothing deep to it. Nothing at all. It just _feels_ good.

Which, incidentally, is what brings him here.

“You’re slowing down,” Ren’s breathy voice says from above, snapping Goro to attention. He glares at Ren as much as he can through his messy fringe and pulls his mouth off, stroking along the length of his shaft with his hand.

“Perhaps it would do you some good to learn a little patience,” Goro answers, nonchalant, and Ren groans. He thumps his head against the wall, gasping.

“Maybe if I didn’t have class in ten minutes, I’d—ah, _fuck_ —take that to heart.”

Goro just shrugs, sliding Ren’s cock back into his mouth. Ren’s hips jerk at the pace he sets with his tongue, smooth and languid and purposefully not enough to get him off, his fingers tightening in Goro’s hair and lips parting with whispered curses.

… And, okay. Goro can admit to himself, privately, that he’s having the time of his _life_ down here. The view is nice, and even though he’s on his knees he feels like he’s on top of the world, like he can topple Ren with just his tongue, just his hands, the bare and helpless and _broken_ side of him he keeps under wraps in public laid out willingly for Goro, only Goro—

Ren moans into his sleeve as Goro takes him into his throat, swallowing around the head and lapping up the underside. Ren is never loud, much to Goro’s dismay; even with no roommates and a fair amount of distance between each of his neighbors, he’s just as quiet as he is outside the bedroom, like he couldn’t _deign_ to allow Goro this, some semblance of desperation, any sign he’s as worked up Goro.

It isn’t fair, not when Goro gives as good as he gets, but—what about Ren Amamiya is fair?

“Goro, I—” Ren strangles another noise in his throat, just loud enough that it has Goro moaning against him. “I—ngh—”

Goro blinks up in recognition, transfixed on the hazy quality of Ren’s eyes as he increases the pace of his bobbing, sucks at the head with a hungry fervor. Before long, Ren is trembling, his cock throbbing, and Goro lavishes his tongue over the slit fully expecting to have to swallow—

Then Ren yanks him off right at the moment of his release, his cum splattering across Goro’s face, his hair. Goro pumps it out with his hand, unmoving even as he’s wrung Ren for all he’s worth. He drops his hand to the side, arms trembling; when he opens his eyes next, it’s to the sound of Ren’s footsteps, disappearing into the kitchen. Goro hates that he can tell where he is without even looking, that he knows the layout with such familiarity (if only because Ren has fucked him on every available surface, in the absence of delicacy).

Goro’s still hard. His knees ache and his cheeks burn and there’s semen all over him, but for some reason all he can think of is how much he wants to leave—walk out the door before an inevitably awkward _thank you_ is in order. It wouldn’t be the first time he did so, either.

But Ren comes back, kneels in front of him with a paper towel and just… stares at him. Not even offering to help clean him up or anything. Goro stares back, swallowing at the tender look in his eyes, and something about this is—crossing some sort of boundary, surely. He drags a hand through the mess on his face, delights in the satisfaction that Ren’s resulting smirk oozes instead. This, at least, he’s familiar with—the flame of competition, of being against Ren, physically and mentally.

“Couldn’t even warn me?” Goro says after a moment. He licks a trail off his fingers, teasingly slow—and then, when Ren has the mind enough to hand him the paper towel, wipes the worst of it off his face. “I even put on makeup today, asshole.”  

“Sorry.” Ren isn’t sorry at all. Goro bets he intended for this from the start.

Sighing softly, Goro stands and tosses the paper towel in the trash, glancing sideways at Ren. Ren’s busy doing up his pants, checking his hair in the mirror, and… for a moment, Goro entertains the thought of walking over, fixing it for himself. Brushing the fringe out of his eyes and laughing at the look he makes in response. He purges the fleeting impulse, chalking it off to twisted curiosity rather than anything like _longing._

“Well?” Goro snaps, dusting off his now-wrinkled dress pants. “You better make it to class, Ren.”

Ren’s gaze drops to Goro’s crotch, equal shades of insolence and wonder drifting across his eyes, then brings them back up and manages a crooked smile at Goro. “If you say so. See you later.”

He follows Goro out the door and closes and locks it behind him, lifting a hand in farewell as he saunters down the opposite hall. Goro watches his back, thinks about that odd second of contemplation that hung in the air between them for a moment, before heading toward his apartment for another long, disappointing shower.

 

* * *

 

“… Which is why I think the story’s ending made sense, all things considered,” Ren is saying, eyes wandering the page before he snaps the book shut.

Goro opens his mouth to argue, but Makoto elbows him, looks askance and says, “ _Don’t_ even think about it,” even though she knows it won’t stop him anyway. He clears his throat and Ren’s gaze snaps toward him, eyes shining; he’s expecting this, of course, because _why not_. Makoto rolls her eyes and mumbles _here we go_ before stuffing her headphones in and blasting whatever metal band she’d been listening to last.

“In my opinion,” Goro intones, straightening for effect, “it was a dissatisfying conclusion that raised more questions than answered any. The protagonist’s sacrifice betrayed his otherwise compelling character arc, and there’s no real indication that anything he did was out of pure selflessness. Not to mention the fact that without him, the rest of the group will be practically useless. It was a poor, split-second decision done out of vanity—the protagonist learned nothing, his friends gained nothing—”

“That’s real cynical of you,” Ren comments. “Well, not really a surprise, now that I think of it.”

Goro lances him with a glare, injecting as much contempt in it as humanly possible. “Perhaps you think too highly of other people’s moral character.”

“I don’t, actually. But you can tell he underwent an intense emotional transformation. Normally he wouldn’t deign to do something like this—everything he did before was for his own self-interest. But the stakes were high and he realized the better choice was to save his friends over himself, and so he did. It doesn’t matter that he didn’t consider it selflessness—his true feelings were always expressed through actions rather than words. So, yes, the ending made sense.” Ren finishes it off with a hair-flip. Unintentional, Goro knows, because his fringe really does get in the way of his eyes, but it needles Goro regardless.

“It’s still mere speculation without verbal confirmation,” Goro remarks, “so I’m allowed to think you’re wrong and naively optimistic.”

Ren shrugs. “That’s fine with me.”

“Okay,” Goro says, and thinks, _Ugh._

The other girl in their group interrupts with an awkward raised hand, placed right between where their staring contest could sour milk. “Um, if you guys are done talking…” She says “talking” like she really means something else. The two of them, both refusing to budge for one long, charged moment, finally concede, and Goro feels a small twinge of satisfaction at the fact that Ren is the first to drop his gaze.

The rest of the class carries on without another hitch. Goro can feel Ren’s eyes on him the whole time, not quite challenging, as is usually the case, but… thoughtful, unperturbed. He might as well have been looking at a book on a shelf at the library.

“You need to stop sitting near him,” Makoto says, once the professor has dismissed them and they’ve evacuated to the café. “You’re distracted, I can tell. Were you even taking notes?”

“I was,” Goro protests, and hands her his notebook. She flips through it and scrunches her face up.

“Are you sure you’re not a med student? I can’t read these.” She tosses him his notebook, Goro scrambling to catch it. “I do hope you’re not like this in your other classes. What luck you have, lining half of your schedule up with his on accident… If you’re going to see him all the time, you might as well lower your exposure to him. Or,” she finishes writing something in her planner and clicks her pen shut, “you could befriend him.”

“Seriously? Not a chance.” He gulps down a heap of his bitter, low-grade coffee before slamming it down on the table. “If I have to face him, I’ll do it up close. I’m not a coward.”

What Makoto doesn’t need to know is how “up-close” he’s willing to get. He hides the smile he makes behind another sip of coffee. “In any case… we have a psychology project coming up,” he mentions.

Makoto heaves a disconcerted sigh. “Don’t remind me.”

“I was thinking of partnering with Hifumi-chan again. You wouldn’t mind, would you?”

Makoto goes stock-still at that, her cheeks a shade of red that could only result from deep guilt. “Actually… I already asked for her a few days ago.”

“What?” He frowns a little. “Don’t tell me she said _yes._ ”

“Well, um—”

“I thought she would’ve wanted to be with me,” he mumbles, looking crestfallen. Makoto has the decency to look apologetic, at least until her expression smooths out into one of resignation.

“Why not ask Amamiya-kun?”

Goro is _aghast._ “You can’t be serious.”

“It’s just a research project. He’s the only other person there that you know, and he’s competent.”

“And he’s insufferable,” Goro huffs out, folding his arms across his chest. He taps a finger against one arm, contemplating, whatever last creases his scowl had wrought ebbing from his face. “… Still, it would be remiss of me to sacrifice my grade for the sake of protecting my pride.”

“Now you’re getting it.” Makoto polishes off the last of her croissant, flicking stray crumbs from her hands onto his own uneaten bagel. “I’m sorry about Hifumi, though. I’ll say hi later if you want.”

Goro just rolls his eyes, tired yet affectionate. “I can do that myself, thank you. I’ll go look for Ren in the meantime.” He offers his bagel to her, and when she declines, he stuffs it in his bag alongside his notebook and other useless papers, wrapping it in a napkin first because he’s not classless. Then he gathers the rest of his things and slides out of his seat. “I’ll see you later, Makoto. Best of luck to you and Hifumi.”

“Yes, yes. Same to you and Ren.” There’s layers of implications in her tone, but Goro decides not to think much of it for his own sake. He exits the café and makes for Ren’s favorite hiding spot.

Fortunately for him, it isn’t far; the study lounge is just a few blocks away, and like Goro expected, Ren is sitting at an alcove tucked between stacks of bookshelves, the campus stray purring against him as he taps at something on his phone. Goro never really understood the appeal to this place, other than the fact that no one sits here, and Ren can sneak a cat on his lap when no one’s looking… sometimes Goro, himself.

“Oh,” Ren says, evidently surprised to see him. “Hey, Goro.”

If Goro’s learned anything in this past half-year, it’s that you can fuck someone on a weekly basis and still not know how to hold a civil conversation with them. He eyes the cat at Ren’s side, its purring interrupted at the unfamiliar presence nearby, and chances a tentative hand on its head. It hisses at him.

“Yikes.” Ren tugs the cat closer to him, frowning apologetically. “Sorry, Mona’s kind of shy.”

“Hmm.” Rejection from animals always stings a little bit. Anyways. “I came to ask about the upcoming project for social psychology.”

“Oh, that? I didn’t think you’d come to me about it. What, did you want to partner up?” He heaves Mona onto his lap and busies himself with scratching behind its ear. Goro can’t help but trace the back-and-forth motions, something tight and wriggling surfacing in the hollow of his chest, but he swallows it down with all the ease of an emotionally-stunted teenager and smiles.

“Only if you can promise to keep up, of course.”

Ren narrows his eyes at him, seeming dubious. “What about that other girl you always talk to? Um… Togo-san, right?”

“My sister robbed her from me,” Goro answers, turning his chin up, “which leaves me no other choice but to ask you. You’re not _already_ claimed, are you?”

Ren considers him, the corner of his lips turning up into a smirk that threatens to undo him—a knife with promises to bleed. “No, I’m not ‘claimed’. But I have to admit I’m surprised. Wouldn’t you rather buddy up with a stranger than stoop to working with your rival? Unless… ?”

Goro blows air through his nose. “Don’t get any funny ideas. We may have our differences, but I won’t deny you have capabilities. That’s all this is.”

“Oh, I have _capabilities_ , all right,” Ren agrees, and Goro can tell there’s something mirthful in his words. His stomach clenches at the thought.

“Did you want me to reconsider?” he warns, and Ren just shakes his head.

“Sorry, sorry. It’s just—”

“What?”

“Um…” Somehow his expression takes on an absurdly shy quality, like he’s some kind of crushing schoolgirl and not (as he is usually) the object of affection. “It’s just… kind of hard to take you seriously when I can see last night’s love bites on your neck.”

Goro splutters, his hand flying to the area beneath his jaw where the skin is still tender and aching, and—shit, he’d _forgotten_ about it, and the whole school probably saw. He flares his nostrils, tugging his collar further over his neck. “Why didn’t you say anything this morning?” he gripes, flushing down to his collarbone.

Ren blinks at him. “I was kind of in a rush. You know, since someone almost made me late to class.” The impishness returns to his smile, quick and heady as a shot, and Goro wants to do his face in.

Still, this particular loss he will bear; it’s not as if anyone teased him about it, anyway. Sighing something long-suffering, he turns away from Ren and says, “Just text me when you’re free. No rush.” _I’m not that eager to see your infuriating face, anyway._ “It was nice speaking with you.”

“Yeah, see you,” Ren says, but Goro’s already striding out of the room, dodging as many people as possible in his haste to get back to his apartment.

 

* * *

 

The next time he meets with Ren, it’s on a Friday; most of their classes have wrapped up by then, and Goro has taken Makoto’s advice, sitting a few rows in front of or behind Ren when they’re in class and engaging only when necessary. Occasionally he misses their banter, because who else can match him like Ren Amamiya? but his self-control always wins out, and he realizes that, for the first time in months, he’s _bored_ without him.

Which must be the reason for his restlessness, surely. He brings his hand up to Ren’s door, poised to knock, and an unexpected sharpness lodges itself at the bottom of his throat. Admittedly, this is the first time he’s visited for reasons that are not risqué—he’s not entirely sure how to act. The moment he’s knocked on the door and swallowed the last of his thudding heartbeat, Ren flings the door open and looks him up and down, only intensifying the razor-edged pressure in his throat.

“Hey,” Ren says, stepping back to let him in. “Make yourself at home.”

Goro toes off his shoes, foregoing a proper greeting in order to take in Ren’s living space. Usually, he skips this part and goes straight to the fucking, not one to saddle Ren with unnecessary conversation—but he’s seen enough of Ren’s apartment to know of his eclectic sense of style, to have noticed (and possibly knocked over on accident) his myriad of souvenirs and decorations collected from friends over the years.

“Have you been avoiding me?” Ren asks all of a sudden, tearing him from his reverie. Goro turns toward him, gaping, his mouth forming around words he can’t quite dislodge from his throat.

“I—I don’t know what gave you that impression. I’ve been keeping the same amount of distance as usual… After all, we’re not friends.”

“I know, since you keep _constantly_ reminding me.” Ren glowers. “What I meant was—”

Goro interrupts him. “Believe it or not, I don’t _actually_ want to fuck you every time I see you. Now, can we get this project over with? I’m starting to regret my decision.”

By some unknown miracle, Ren takes it in stride and leads him further into the apartment, bouncing onto the couch and kicking his feet up on the coffee table. His laptop is already open, the project guidelines laid out and a number of articles idling in seperate tabs. “I’ve taken a look at the expectations, and we need to cite about five sources when discussing our topic. There’ll also be a five-minute presentation on Wednesday.”

Goro shrugs, nonplussed; he’s only wary of how well Ren performs in front of an audience. Most of the time, Ren’s cooped up in his room, or petting cats at the lounge, or surrounded by a close-knit group of friends… Otherwise, he comes off as withdrawn. Keeps to himself, mostly. For a moment Goro is startled at the direction his thoughts are taking, but he shakes himself out of it, convinced that this is just a thing people do. They watch, they observe. It doesn’t have to mean anything.

“What were you thinking of researching?” Goro asks now, taking a seat beside him. He makes sure to leave a foot of space between them, just in case Ren tries something offhanded.

Ren stares at his feet. “… Proximity and attraction.”

“Proximity and…” The corner of his mouth quirks up. “Seriously?”

“I just think it’s important,” Ren argues, his cheeks a faint shade of pink, “relationships and stuff.”

There’s a million different ways Goro can interpret that, but he shouldn’t waste the effort, not when the stark truth of their own relationship hangs over them like a rotten fruit. He reclines into the couch, gesturing to the laptop’s dimmed screen and huffing: “Well, if you insist. Let’s go over the outline, then.”

Ren’s eyes go ridiculously round. “You’re not gonna fight me on it?”

“Why would I? I agree with you; relationships make a significant difference to one’s lifestyle.”

Ren smiles a private smile. “Oh, you _agree_ with me.”

Goro kicks him in the shin, relishing in the surprised wince that it elicits from the other man. “Anyways,” he sighs, leaning over to swipe the laptop from Ren, “it seems you’ve already gotten started on it, without my consent. At least this will make my job easier.”

“What exactly is your ‘job’?” Ren questions, nudging his shoulder against Goro’s. The contact makes his skin prickle.

“Cleaning up your mess? These notes are hardly coherent.” He keeps his nose turned up as he addresses him; hopefully it isn’t immediately obvious how much Ren’s touch has rattled him. He swears he’s been conditioned to expect something _more_ every time Ren’s skin brushes against his, like some poor, touch-starved dog, even if those touches are in jest. Another stupid thing Ren has on Goro.

Probably other people, too, knowing how… persuasive Ren can be.

“I’m sorry my notes aren’t ‘coherent’.” Ren pouts, shifting closer so he can better observe Goro’s swift work—though, much closer than is appropriate. “I was just getting started, so… I kind of just slapped a bunch of random information together and hoped for the best.” He slings his arm over the couch, his thighs pressing into Goro’s and face near enough that some of his curls tickle Goro’s cheek, and from this distance Goro can catch a whiff of his cologne—an aroma with notes of lavender, he realizes. What an arrogant asshole. Goro feels his breathing go short in his chest.

“… You did manage to grab the essentials, at least. I can take care of the components under proximity, while you deal with the section about attraction.”

“Mm.” Ren pulls up the article on “similarity vs. complementarity”. His arm has to cross Goro’s lap to scroll through it, his elbow dangerously near Goro’s stomach, and their shoulders are so close that he can feel Ren’s chest rumble as he speaks, “Well, let me do my part on my laptop, then.”

Goro pinches his brows together. “Actually, I forgot to bring my laptop…”

“Yeah, well, that’s on you.” Ren turns to look at him, seeming to notice for the first time their proximity, the labored pace of Goro’s breathing, and—for some reason, he starts to look _embarrassed._ Maybe even a little self-conscious. He flicks his gaze away, expression tightening as if he’d glimpsed the human manifestation of the Elephant’s Foot.

Now there’s an opening. Goro smirks despite himself, setting the laptop just out of Ren’s reach. “Is something the matter, Ren?”

“No… Can I have my laptop?” He lifts himself and reaches over, _unbearably_ timid, and Goro has to wonder where all his bravado went. Touching him, testing him, only to get all flighty when Goro actually acknowledged the advances—his _unintentional_ advances, apparently—what the hell did he expect to happen, winding Goro up for nothing? He catches Ren’s wrist before it can reach his laptop, trapping it at his side.

“Hey, what—” He immediately shuts up when Goro throws a leg over his lap, straddling him. There’s some nervous laughter, a raised brow at most, but no interest. No desire. Frustrated, Goro reaches beneath Ren’s shirt and trails a hand up, circling his stomach, his chest, listening to his strained breathing and startled gasp. “G-Goro—?” Ren inhales sharply, hips writhing. “Is—is this the real reason you came over?”

“Shut up.” It wasn’t. At least, it wasn’t at first. In lieu of explanation, he leans forward and brushes his lips against Ren’s ear, feeling him shiver breathlessly beneath him. _Good,_ Goro thinks, delirious, scraping his teeth over Ren’s lobe, _you ought to feel what I feel._

“So,” Goro mentions conversationally, lips skirting the skin of Ren’s neck. “Tell me about attraction.”

Ren squirms. “Wh-What?”

“We’re researching it, aren’t we?” He flutters his lashes, kisses and nips travelling lower, _lower._ “Diligently, might I add.”

More nervous laughter, except this time tinged with confusion. “That’s… uh…”

Humming thoughtfully, Goro slips his hand down, groping for Ren’s dick and smiling when he realizes it’s already half-hard. With agonizing slowness, he undoes the button of Ren’s pants, pulls his zipper down and frees his cock from his boxers. “Well?”

Ren takes in a shuddering breath. “W-Well… people tend to choose partners who they perceive as… equal in attractiveness or intelligence.” His breath hitches when Goro strokes him to full hardness, the tip of his cock leaking precum and making every motion slicker, more hot with friction. “A-And… usually partners who don’t meet those qualifications have… compensating qualities.”

Goro grins. “Like good sex?”

Ren nods, a bit frantically. “Yeah. Yeah, god—”

“Ah, ah. We’re not done,” Goro chides, pressing his finger against Ren’s bottom lip. He takes to drawing out slower strokes, his thumb circling around the head and making Ren _whine_. “What about that article you were looking at earlier?” His gaze slides over to the still-open laptop. “Similarity versus complementarity, was it?”

“Oh,” Ren breathes, bucking his hips a little and groaning, “um—similarity—that’s the idea that—likeness produces liking. Dissimilarity produces dislike. Can I stop yet?”

“No.” Goro twists his wrist and Ren hisses. “What about the other?”

“Complementarity,” Ren says, and bites his lip to smother his moans. By the time he’s gathered himself enough to talk, his words are fractured: “Opposites attract. Contrasting qualities complete what’s missing in the other partner. God, can’t you go any _faster?”_

That kills the fun of it, and with a sigh Goro shoves two fingers into Ren’s mouth, holding his jaw open to let his moans spill freely. “How can I trust you to present if you can’t even handle distractions?” Goro mocks, but the hand on Ren’s dick complies with his previous demand and pumps harder. Ren glares, eyes indignant even though they glaze over from lust, even though every thread of his voice is _wrecked_ and pitching decibel by decibel like his skin is on the verge of unravelling.

And Goro—Goro couldn’t be more enraptured, the heat at the pit of his stomach stoked to flames as Ren’s tongue flicks around the digits in his mouth. He wants to bite, grind down on Ren and hear him cry out, keep him trapped beneath his hands for hours until there’s no light left for the curtains to block. It’s a sudden, invasive hunger, sweeping through his limbs and chest and for a moment—free of the public eye and Ren’s and even his own—he thinks, _I could feel this forever._

But he remembers himself in time and shuts it down, faster than he can even entertain it.

“Close?” he murmurs silkily, squeezing Ren’s base and watching the way his eyes flutter shut at the sensation. Ren nods, pink lips gaping, his cock throbbing in Goro’s palm. Goro stares at him, thinks of sinking his teeth into Ren’s plump lips; they’re so deceptively soft, so shiny with spit. If he drew blood, could he sink himself into the cut like venom, leave Ren with the memory of him to infect him for years?

“Goro,” Ren slurs, voice muffled, and Goro’s self-control snaps.

Slipping his fingers out from Ren’s mouth, Goro replaces them with his tongue and kisses Ren feverishly, wet and sloppy and _desperate_ as he stuffs his now-free hand into his boxers and grasps at his slick cock. It feels _good,_ having a hand on himself, that he can’t help but choke out a moan, rocking his hips into the touch with an almost childish clumsiness.

“No,” Ren gasps into Goro’s mouth, shaking his head fervently, “together,” and then he scrabbles for the hand still in Goro’s pants, pulling it out and off and squeezing his palm (as if to hold it, to maybe thread their fingers together, but no—Goro couldn’t dare hope). Goro’s cock springs out with a yank of his zipper and boxers, and before Ren can do anything about it Goro slides their arousals together and wraps his hand around them, stroking hard and fast enough to hurt.

“Goro,” Ren rasps, and Goro purrs into his mouth. He rubs the underside of their cocks together, every inch of contact like a rush of sparks up his spine, bright and burning and electric with pain. Goro feels drunk on it, drunk on _him,_ nothing left in his system but pure, animalistic instinct.

“Are you gonna come, Ren?” Goro teases, grinding down roughly and giggling at the noise Ren makes in response. “Hmm? Let me hear you. Let me hear that pretty little voice when you come.” He quickens his pace, presses his hips harder and harder into Ren’s own until there’s no space left between them, pries Ren’s mouth open with his tongue so he can’t silence himself. Ren moans and gasps and _cries_ out until his back arches and his voice goes mute and his cum is covering Goro’s hand and both of their cocks, dragging Goro to the edge until his orgasm is wrenched from him, too.

Goro’s mind spins, his vision flashing with spots of white and black as he comes. He rides it out against Ren’s lap, whining, Ren’s hands moving to wrap around the small of Goro’s back to keep him steady. It’s dizzying, the way Ren’s breath and taste mingles with his; like this, he can almost imagine they’re somewhere else. Miles away from this stupid cramped apartment, from the prying eyes of the world and its cruelties and into their own private bubble.

But these dreams end, as all dreams do, and the cool air of the apartment hitting his soft cock snaps him out of his trance. He shivers, realizing Ren hasn’t released him yet, but sinks into the embrace for a moment, into Ren’s comforting warmth.

“Wow,” Ren wheezes, resting their foreheads together. “ _Fuck,_ Goro.”

“Mm.” He closes his eyes, heartbeat evening out.

Ren laughs breathlessly. “So… you think my voice is pretty?”

“Oh, don’t let it get to your head.” Goro elbows Ren in the stomach. Then, as the last of the afterglow’s heat drains from his body, he squirms and flicks away the drops of cum on his hand, face contorted with disgust. “Ugh… what a mess. May I borrow a spare change of clothes?”

“Like the rest of the clothes you ‘borrowed’?” Ren jokes, but concedes with an eye-roll when Goro seems seconds away from socking him in the mouth. “Okay, okay. You can keep those anyway. I hardly notice they’re gone.”

That must be a lie, considering one of the t-shirts Goro stole was one of Ren’s favorites, but he decides not to question it and leaves Ren’s embrace for the colder arms of the bedroom walls. He’s no stranger to this room; he’s at the clothes drawer in a heartbeat, rifling through its contents with his clean hand and fishing out the most respectable t-shirt and pair of sweats he can find. Most of Ren’s clothes are plain anyway, except some have stains or are too low-cut or are printed with some tasteless graphic design, and Goro has to at least look semi-presentable around his colleagues.

Even colleagues who have seen him naked, as it happens.

“I’m going to use your shower,” Goro announces, peeking his head out of Ren’s bedroom.

Ren shouts after him: “Do you have room for two?”

“I’ll dump your body wash down the toilet,” Goro retorts, and sequesters himself inside the bathroom before he can hear Ren’s response. He plops his clothes onto the sink counter, presses his back against the wall, and sinks to the floor with a sigh.

He needs to get a fucking grip.

 

* * *

 

Despite… well, everything, the rest of the afternoon goes surprisingly smoothly. The most they argue about is Ren’s choice of visuals for the PowerPoint, but with a common goal and lack of time frame, they work quite well together. Ren doesn’t engage him in petty conversation, and Goro doesn’t bother with pleasantries, abandoning his usual faux-cheeriness for a diligent, austere work persona.

When the day is up, they plan another meeting, say their goodbyes, and leave each other alone. No mention of Goro’s weird lecture-slash-sex, nor the fact Goro had been avoiding him rather intently the week before. Goro wonders if it’d been a big deal to Ren in the first place. Surely, he’s more concerned with the affairs of his _actual_ friends, perhaps a potential love interest Goro doesn’t know about. Goro’s nothing more than a good fuck, after all.

He comes home that evening to Makoto and Hifumi in the dining room; they’re poring over their textbooks, notebooks open and pens in hand as they discuss something in frantic, hushed tones. At the sound of the door opening, they perk up and set their pens down, Hifumi’s eyes brightening at the sight of him.

“Goro-kun!” She leaps up to greet him.

“Hifumi-chan,” he says, meeting her halfway and embracing her. “It’s such a pleasure to see you. Hello to you too, Makoto,” he adds belatedly, which earns him a glare.

“Nice to see you as well. I’m assuming the project with Amamiya-kun went well?”

“You’re partnered with Amamiya-kun?” Hifumi asks, her eyes wide in disbelief. “Forgive me, but… I was under the impression that you despised him.”

“I do.” He tugs Hifumi in by the waist to nuzzle her hair. “Besides, he could never replace _you_ , my queen.”

She sputters and flushes, pulling away from him, but there’s a smile blooming on her lips and that’s all Goro needs. He follows her back to her seat at the dining table and sits beside her.

“How has your project been going?” he asks, sweeping his gaze over the clutter in front of him. There’s some worksheets from class and a combination of the girls’ notes sprawled across the table, and from what Goro can tell, they’re studying routes of persuasion—central, peripheral, the works.

Hifumi sighs a little. “Quite well, I think. Makoto and I make a good team.” She smiles at Goro, just this side of mischievous, and Goro feigns hurt.

“Over you and I? I can’t believe you would desert me for my _sister_ , Hifumi-chan.”

“Yes, well—” Makoto looks one provocation away from stepping on Goro’s foot. “I hear you distract Hifumi far too often with your flirtations, so… naturally, I’m the better fit.”

Goro pouts. “I do nothing of the sort.”

“I wouldn’t lie to your sister if I were you,” Hifumi teases, then flashes him another sheepish smile. “Ah, but if you’re here… that means I’ve overstayed my welcome. It’s about time I head home.”

“So soon? But I just got to see you,” he grumbles.

“It’s already late,” Hifumi protests, and when Goro doesn’t let up on his pout, she reaches over and pinches his cheek. “Please don’t make that face. It’ll make me feel bad.”

“I think that’s the idea,” Makoto mutters, standing to help Hifumi gather her things. She’s been giving Goro odd looks the whole time, and while normally he’d concede and allow her to browbeat whatever annoyed him that day out of his mouth, he can’t afford to divulge his current plight to her. His and Ren’s issues are theirs alone; what good is he if he burdens his family with his responsibilities?

So Goro accompanies Hifumi to the door, ignoring the fiery pressure of Makoto’s gaze on his back as he gives Hifumi one last embrace. “I’m glad I got to see you,” Hifumi says, once they’ve separated and re-established a respectful standing distance.  “I hope you and Ren start to get along eventually. It would be… unwise to continue on like this.”

“I agree.” Though Goro knows his meaning is different than hers. “… Listen, Hifumi—”

“If something goes wrong, I’ll be here for you,” she resumes, as if he’d never spoken. Her hand raises, then withdraws, moving instead to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, and that small, aborted movement is enough to sour the taste in his mouth. “Goodbye, Goro-kun.”

“Goodbye.” She gives him one last smile before shuffling down the stairs, leaving him alone.

“… Um, Goro, the door.”

Well, maybe not quite alone. Goro sighs and shuts the door, as requested.

As soon as he’s turned around, Makoto’s hawk-like gaze zeroes in on him, though it’s undercut by the soft gloss of concern that washes over her: her eyebrows unscrewing, her shoulders slumping, the slight bit of tension in her expression slackening into nothing. “Is something the matter?” he asks placatively.

Makoto worries her lip. “You didn’t answer my question earlier,” she says, then steps forward, now only a few feet away from him. “About you and Amamiya-kun.”

Goro stares at her. He can feel her sincerity, knows she means well, but he can’t let her win, not like this. She wouldn’t understand this vulnerability he has—his inability to handle the slightest interaction with Ren without everything blowing up in his face. “It’s fine, Makoto.” He smiles, but he’s struggling to keep his tone level. “Business as usual. We talk, we argue, we do our work. It’s nothing I can’t overcome.”

Makoto looks at him, seems to look right _through_ him as he meets her gaze with equal steadiness, and then—“Do you hate him? _Really_ hate him?”

How can he answer a question like that? Does he hate Ren or hate the things he does to him? Hate the way he makes him feel, the way he’s so effortlessly perfect and lovable while Goro sacrifices everything just to stay on the surface, or does he hate being a person with _feelings_ , someone that is perceived and thought about and talked of? The answer: “I don’t know.”

Makoto presses her lips together. She seems torn between speaking or dropping the issue for good, her mouth opening and closing wordlessly, before she settles on: “About Hifumi…”

“She’s moved on.” His voice is rougher now. When did it get so rough? “You know we’re just friends.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Makoto says calmly, folding her arms across her chest. “I mean you.”

That startles him. Anger flares his chest, sudden and hot and _aching,_ and he can’t stop it from boiling over. He spits, “What does that have to do with anything? Of course I have. Don’t make any assumptions.”

“I know! I just…” She sinks into herself, like a tightly-wound spring. “I’m just saying I get it. If you’re worried about something going wrong, because… because of last year.” Makoto spins on her heel, back tense, and all the indignation and fear that had plagued his heart suddenly simmers and tightens his throat with guilt. _God_ , she’s his sister; how could he ever believe she wouldn’t understand him?

He walks up to her—hesitates—lifts his hand and places it gently on her shoulder. He’s not prepared to bare the whole truth, but… if he can’t confide in her, he can at least allow her this.

“I’m sorry, Makoto.” He gives her a quick, reassuring squeeze, a smile she can’t even see. “I’ll be fine. I promise I can handle it by myself, okay?”

A shuddering sigh rocks Makoto’s frame, and he feels it down to his toes, the relief and worry that travels through her. “If you say so…” He allows her to pry his hand off of her as she steps away, fists returning to clench at her sides. “… But, Goro. I know it might be tough, but… give Ren a chance, okay?” She looks over her shoulder, once, then heads for her bedroom. “Dinner’s in the fridge.”

Her door clicks shut with finality, and Goro stays standing in the living room, his thoughts pouring over his skull and onto the floor. For some reason, she seems to know something he doesn’t.

He cards a hand through his unkempt hair and heads robotically for the fridge. Dinner, right now, sounds heavenly.

 

* * *

 

It’s Sunday when Goro sees Ren again, the latter calling Goro up in the middle of his evening jog to convene at Ren’s apartment. Goro’s workout spot is only a few blocks away from him, and while he could very well turn back and freshen up at home, the idea of lounging somewhere close by has a certain appeal to it. So to Ren’s apartment he goes.

Ren answers the door quicker than usual; today he’s dressed in little else but a t-shirt and sweatpants that hug his figure devastatingly well, no matter the crumbs currently dusted across his stomach. “That was fast,” he says, then narrows his eyes at the sight of him. His gaze drops down to Goro’s legs, curious, indulgent. “Nice shorts.”

Goro invites himself inside and toes his shoes off by the wall. “I was jogging at a nearby park. I’m a little sweaty, though, so could I use your shower?”

“That’s the second time already,” Ren chides, but doesn’t protest when Goro makes for the bathroom.

It’s the same as Goro remembers it. _Of course_. Though he half-expects to find the drawers of some other fuckbuddy Ren’s hiding, maybe an unfamiliar shampoo or soaps gifted to him by a secret admirer, there’s nothing of the sort. He doesn’t know why he bothers; it’s not any of his business, what Ren gets up to in his free time. Perhaps if he weren’t such a goddamn mystery, Goro would be less inclined to dig up the minutiae of his private life, would feel none of the investigative urges that niggle him now.

Goro spends another few minutes in the shower contemplating; he’s stuck on Makoto’s words from yesterday, her insistence to make it right. And what exactly does he have to “make right”? What grievances must he air? He challenged Ren to start—poked and prodded at him because he was envious at his natural abilities, and then it became the ground of their rivalry, their sex life, eventually. Ren had responded in kind, never made any indication he wanted to move past that. Without it, what do they have left? Is it anything worth pursuing a fool’s errand for?

… Well. He’ll deal with it later. He exits the shower and towels himself off, borrowing Ren’s hair dryer and fishing out the spare t-shirt he’d brought along for his jog to wear now. Then he tugs on the shorts he had on earlier, fixes his hair in the mirror, and quietly heads out.

Ren is in the living room, splayed across the couch playing some video game Goro doesn’t recognize; on his belly, he balances a bright-red bowl of nachos, one tortilla chip sticking precariously out of the corner of his mouth as he taps vigorously at his controller. The sight is abhorrent, but Ren manages to make it look attractive, as always. Everything he does seems to have a touch of sex appeal.

“Surely, we could have something better than nachos for dinner,” Goro says, raising his voice over the noise of the TV. Ren cranes his head back to look at him, the lone tortilla chip falling out of his mouth.

“Are you going to cook for me?” In anticipation of this, he pauses the game and sets the bowl of nachos aside, propping his head up on his elbows to watch. Sometimes Goro wonders if Ren spends so much time with cats because he’s one, himself.

Goro looks away before he can stare too long. “ _No,_ I’m not cooking. Do you mind takeout?”

Ren’s answer comes a beat late. “I’m fine with it.”

Goro unlocks his phone and searches up the nearest restaurants that offer takeout, some Chinese, some Vietnamese, some American… he’s not really feeling any of them, to be honest. “What are you in the mood for?” he asks Ren. There’s no response, so he ventures, “Ren?” and is met with silence yet again. Chancing a glimpse over his shoulder, he realizes the reason for his preoccupation and sighs, the last of his patience waning. “Stop staring at my ass.”

“Oh.” Ren blinks once, eyes back on Goro’s face. “My bad.”

Goro bites the inside of his cheek to prevent the smile that threatens to surface, and he turns to face Ren properly, arms akimbo. “Well?”

“Um… I guess we can have sushi,” Ren decides. “You like that, right?”

“Yes… How did you know?”

Ren waves a hand. “It’s your favorite thing to post on Instagram. I just guessed.”

Goro’s brows disappear into his fringe. “You follow me on Instagram?”

“Everyone I know does. What, you don’t follow mine?” Ren challenges, lips slanting up.

Goro huffs at that. “I don’t, actually,” he rebuts, voice tight with embarrassment, “since all you post is your cat and the weird trash you buy online.”

“But you’ve looked me up,” Ren counters, just as Goro disappears into the hallway to dial the local sushi restaurant.

After the call, Goro takes a moment to catch his breath. Today will be fine. He can go several hours without jumping Ren Amamiya. He repeats this mantra in his head religiously as he walks back to the living room, taking a seat on the couch and ensuring he’s at least a foot away from Ren. Ren, the oblivious shit, doesn’t seem to understand its intent and closes the distance easily—their thighs touching, much like they had been the other day, Ren’s breath startlingly close to his neck.

“So,” Ren says, plopping a controller down onto Goro’s lap. “Wanna play with me?”

Goro drops his gaze onto it like someone just placed a rotten banana peel on him. “What?”

“While we wait for the food,” Ren elaborates, then nudges him in the ribs, as if forgetting what outcome this proximity had led to last time. Either he has no sense of self-preservation or he’s waiting to see if Goro will crack. Well, two can play at that game.

“… Fine. I suppose I can indulge you.” He smiles and picks the controller up, except it’s upside-down and Ren has to help him reorient it. He may have never played games beyond that on his phone or on Hifumi’s 3DS, but this is just insulting. “Ren, I knew that.”

“I’m sure you did.” Ren pats him on the shoulder. “Anyways, let me tell you the controls.”

It’s a puzzle game, Ren explains, that can be played alone but is apparently easier to complete through two-player mode, and the controls are simple. Goro gets the hang of it after two practice rounds, blasting through five stages with Ren before it starts to pose a challenge. There’s a certain satisfaction to it, even though he’s working with the man of his nightmares; like with their group project, they create a formidable team, and the way Ren praises his each accomplishment is… gratifying, to say the least. He mostly expected Ren’s silence and inattention. For that, playing with Ren has its benefits.

But Goro has to wonder: this needless proximity, the lack of sexual intent… what does Ren gain from it, ultimately? Surely, he can’t be _enjoying_ Goro’s presence. Maybe this is his way of segueing into other, more physical activities—or maybe, wheedling his way into Goro’s heart to take advantage of later. With their history of head-butting, how could Ren possibly manifest a desire to change that?

The alternative right now would be foolish, and yet… when an hour passes without incident, Goro entertains the possibility that it might just be true.

“You caught on fast,” Ren says at some point, pausing the game to stretch a little. “You said you’ve never played video games before?”

“Not really.” Goro is embarrassed to say it. He’s nineteen years old and has barely spared it a passing thought; it’s almost pitiful.

Ren stares at him, then says, “Not even with your friends?”

This must be bait. Still, he bites: “I don’t spend time with them very often.”

“Why, aren’t they your friends?”

“Well…” Goro hesitates. If he says, Ren may very well use it as an opportunity to boast of his own tight-knit connections. And yet, something about the easy calm Ren radiates… it placates him. “No,” he answers honestly. “I can only call three or four of them my friends. The rest are more like… admirers.”

“Wow.” Ren whistles, impressed.

“It’s not like that,” Goro grumbles, and bumps his shoulder into Ren’s. “Actually, it’s quite lonely. They’re only interested in your popularity… one day, they could be gone in a heartbeat. It’s not exactly flattering; it stops me from being close with them.”

“That’s not a healthy way to think of it,” Ren argues, but his voice is soft, bereft of any chastisement. “Maybe they don’t care about your fame. Maybe they just like you.”

Goro passes him a sidelong glance. There’s more to that statement, he’s sure—but is it worth dissecting? “I don’t know if it’s worth the risk,” he responds, uncharacteristically gentle nonetheless. “But I appreciate the thought. I imagine for you, though, it’s different. People are naturally drawn to you. There’s nothing they want to gain from you, simply a genuine attraction… You collect friends like it’s nothing.”

“It’s not collecting,” Ren says sulkily. “We just like being around each other. That’s all.” He gives Goro a meaning look, something dark in his shining eyes, like a sun eclipsed. Goro is struck with how much he suddenly wants to kiss him. “Was it always like that for you?” Ren asks after a pause.

Goro snaps out of it. “Pardon?”

“You know. Having no friends.”

“How harsh,” Goro teases, damming the vulnerability in his throat before it can leak out. “Well, I suppose. It has always been me and my sister. Most of my actual friends are hers, otherwise, I have few I have befriended on my own.” He can feel Ren draw closer as he speaks, their sides nestled comfortably together, and—for once, he doesn’t have the heart to deny it. He sinks into Ren’s shoulder, guilt stabbing at him like a toxin. But Ren is encouraging it, and they’re not doing anything illicit anyway, so… it should be fine, right? Ren is asking no more of him, and Goro isn’t taking more than that’s allowed… 

“… You know,” Goro continues, feeling emboldened all of a sudden, “I never had much room to socialize. Since our parents are gone, I spent so much time helping my older sister around the house.”

“Older sister? This is the first I’m hearing about it,” Ren says.

Goro cracks a wry smile. “That was on purpose, I assure you. What about your family?”

Ren stares at Goro as if he has grown two heads.

“What?”

“Sorry, um. I mean, I have both parents, but they’re kinda dull. And I haven’t seen my sisters in a few years…. they’re both older than me and have their own families. You know how it is.”

Goro hums. “That’s… not what I expected,” he says, and chuckles a little at the thought.

Ren looks, absurdly, _delighted_ at that. “What were you expecting?”

“I don’t know. Perhaps more theatrics,” Goro says. “You were born into a prodigious family, took dance classes, gymnastics, things of that ilk. It would explain your, ah—”

Oh, no. He purses his lips. He can see Ren’s widening grin even as he squeezes his own eyes shut.

“My what?” Ren prods impudently.

“Nothing. Never mind.” Goro is _done_ with this conversation.

“No, tell me,” Ren persists, and shoves at him when he doesn’t relent. Goro shoves back, Ren meeting him blow for blow, and for a moment he marvels at the _absurdity_ of all this, of roughhousing with Ren like they’re two boys in a locker room. He dares to call it _fun_ —no expectations of sex, or silence, or anger, just an easy camaraderie. Something he never thought he could have with Ren. It’s unnatural,  _laughable_ , even, but he feels lighter than he has in _months_ and he can no longer ignore it—this connection they have, the potential for more.

But it scares him. Oh, how it _scares_ him.

“Hey, Goro,” Ren says as they settle, voice low, and a chill runs up Goro’s spine. He swallows hard, staring back.

“Yes?”

Ren considers him for a little, his head tilting, then the corner of his mouth curves up like he’s uncovered a secret. “You should smile more,” Ren says, and before Goro can react: “Oh, we forgot about the sushi. Should one of us go grab it or do you wanna go together?”

How preposterous to assume that Goro would enjoy the latter, especially after dropping a line like _that._ Goro would sooner decompose. “I’ll go. I’m interfering in your home, after all.”

“You’re not,” Ren says genuinely, and Goro doesn’t waste time being baffled over it. He stands to grab his phone and wallet and wills away the blush he knows is on his face, noticing for the first time how dark it is outside, a testament to how immersed in their activities they were. Goro hadn’t even talked about the project, let alone thought about it. Maybe… this is going to be a problem.

“I’ll be quick,” Goro says, just to say something, and Ren looks at him from over the couch and flashes a thumbs-up. Then, he goes back to fucking around on his phone, and Goro watches him selfishly for a few moments before turning and leaving, his heart thundering in his ribs.

Oh, it’s going to be much, much bigger than just a _problem,_ his squeezing chest tells him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> end notes!!  
> \- "what do they major in" yeah  
> \- "where does this take place" oh you know  
> \- that fake book analysis at the beginning... looks likes it's about goro akechi huh. SIKE it's about a movie i won't name for my dignity  
> \- goro is 100% a Bisexual Man in this au, if you somehow hadn't deduced that by now  
> \- here, goro and makoto are twins and sae their older sister. much like in canon, their parents are absent, meaning they more or less develop with the same issues as in game (less... extreme, in goro's case, LMAO)  
> \- i had trouble deciding what to make goro's personality here! since he's not a celebrity here, i figured he has less of an obligation to fake nice, which explains his hostility towards ren. he does, however, retain his desire for perfection and attention, and is Very Much a hard-working student and probably participates in 5000 different clubs (same with ren, which is why they clash so often)  
> \- hifumi will play a bigger role later on! i love her so much and want her to have more screentime so look forward to that ;w;  
> \- also listen to "urs" by niki which half-inspired this fic, along with niki's many, many other songs... she's so GOOD
> 
>  
> 
> if you have any more feedback or questions, please leave comments + kudos! u can also find me @nonnecheri on twitter where i post art and memes


	2. goodbyes in disguise

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i've had this written for MONTHS but neglected to post it because it was meant to be longer... so i cut off two extra (unfinished) scenes so i could post this early, and i hope it satisfies!! i can't guarantee when the next chapters will be out—to be honest, it may take longer than it took this chapter to come out—but thank you for sticking around!
> 
> that being said, this writing is a bit old so you may notice some differences in style between this and any future chapters. hopefully it isn’t too jarring!

They get their sushi. 

Ren tricks Goro into spieling the history of seafood in Japan while they pick at their food, rice on their shirts and shoulders pressed together and feet propped up on the coffee table. Ren’s been laughing a lot more lately. Goro thinks it’s weird. Weird, and delightful, and satisfying. His lips, when curved up the way they are now, always set a kind of heat in Goro’s stomach, pleasant and unsettling in equal measure. 

Normally, the sight would inspire… other moods, but now, he’s content to simply bask in it, in Ren’s laughter which has none of the dryness Goro is used to. His insides feel tingly, squirming with warmth and nerves. It’s indigestion, probably.

“Hey,” Ren says, nudging his foot into Goro’s. Goro tries to rein in the shiver that runs up his spine.

“Yes, Ren?” 

“You haven’t touched your wasabi.” Ren points at it with his chopsticks. “Can I have it?” 

Goro passes it over, taking a moment to watch as Ren digs into his meal with newfound alacrity. He’s a bit of a messy eater, looking at him now. Goro didn’t expect that. Then again, he never knows what to expect when it comes to Ren; surprisingly athletic, a good cook (Goro only knows this by word of mouth), well-read in random and seemingly unrelated fields, it’s as if Ren has a little bit of everything in his blood. Goro could attend any club meeting and Ren would be there, charming the pants off of its regulars with a convenient, but bare-bones knowledge of the related craft. 

“Are you okay?” Ren asks dubiously. “You’re staring.” 

The words jar Goro awake, and he exhales a short laugh. “Ah… my bad. I was just thinking we should start on our project soon, with how late it’s getting.”  

Ren hums. “You’re right. We got distracted, didn’t we?” 

“ _You_ distracted _me,_ ” Goro says haughtily, gathering up the used napkins and plates and prodding Ren to do the same. Ren snorts and elbows his ribs, soon following suit.

Within the next several minutes, they get to work on their psychology project. It’s a surprisingly quiet affair, as Goro doesn’t yell at Ren once, and they’re too glued to their respective tasks to have biting conversations. Instead, Ren cracks lame jokes, and Goro tries not to shake with startled laughter. Goro’s cheeks hurt from smiling—when did that happen, with how practiced he is at faking them? 

The sushi must have pacified him. In fact, it’s difficult to feel anything but a sense of _ease_ , working side-by-side like this. Goro talks. Ren _listens._ He doesn’t say what he thinks Goro wants to hear. It’s… refreshing. Even their disagreements lack the usual fire they tend to possess. 

“I had fun,” Ren tells him later that night, leaning against the door frame as he watches Goro step out into the hallway. “Let’s do this again sometime.” 

“We’re going to have to, if we want to finish that project,” Goro says wryly. He wonders if it would be proper to ask if they’re… no. It wouldn’t be, not at all. “You’re quite agreeable, when it comes down to it,” is all he can manage, cheeks growing hot. 

“Thank you, I think.” Ren flashes him a smile. “Well… Bye, then.” 

Goro nods once. “Right. I’ll text you when I’m free.” 

“I’m looking forward to it,” Ren says, his smile widening, before he winks and clicks the door gently shut. Silence settles in, and Goro already hates it. 

 

* * *

 

They come together again two days later, and then another few days after that, and even _sooner_ after that. The first time was nothing special; Goro and Ren, both already fed from lunch, went straight into their project, completing five slides and parts of others before they called it a day. The second time, they met at a café and chatted over coffee, making it only two slides through the presentation before they went their separate ways. The third time… well, that was when it became weird. 

It went something like this: Goro arrived at Ren’s apartment. Ren cooked them dinner, and they sat at the couch to eat. Then they watched a movie, and… completely forgot about the stupid project. 

“My bad,” Ren said, rubbing the back of his neck. “I shouldn’t have put on that movie.” 

Goro admits it was also partly his fault; had he not spoken so often throughout the movie, they probably would’ve gone through it faster. Still, it was nice, talking so openly like that. The last time he allowed himself the privilege, his friends thought him a nuisance and stopped inviting him to movie night. It’s just as well. He _was_ being a nuisance, after all.

And yet, Ren didn’t seem to mind. He simply let it be and indulged Goro where he could. Goro doesn’t know why he would bother, but, well… that was kind of him.

“We should go to the pool,” Ren says on the fourth day, when they’re languishing in Ren’s hot apartment with the AC turned on high. Goro lolls his head over to look at him.

“… And work on the project _there?”_

Ren shrugs. “Yeah. Sure.” 

To Ren’s credit, he _does_ bring a notebook and pen to the local pool where they dip their feet in and discuss functional distance, but he tosses both into the bag thirty minutes later and changes into a swimsuit to swim in. Goro, overwhelmed by the heat and won over by the sight of Ren shirtless, decides to join after ten minutes of watching Ren wade around and threaten to wet Goro’s clothes with a pool noodle.

“Do you know how to swim?” Ren asks, circling Goro who sits stubbornly at the shallow end. 

“Of course I do.” 

“Then why don’t we race?” He tugs on Goro’s wrist. “Last place buys the other ice cream.” 

“I fail to see how this is useful to our project,” Goro says, sighing, but in the light, without his glasses and his hair slicked back enough to reveal his face, Ren’s eyes sparkle more than usual. “… Fine. Only if it’s the ice cream shop around the corner.” 

“Deal.” Ren releases his wrist. “On your mark.” 

They get in position and, once a path clears in the colorful mass of swimmers, they take off. Goro hasn’t swam in nearly a year, a fact which makes itself obvious through his sluggishness and the way his lungs burn after so little exertion. When Ren hits the finish line and bursts out of the water, swiping a hand over his wet hair and grinning, Goro growls and says, “Again.” 

And so they go again. And again. And again. Ren wins each time, and though it frustrates him, Goro can feel a smile swelling on his lips despite the losses.

“You almost got me there,” Ren says, panting. He rests his head on the ground beside the pool, dripping onto the concrete. The water sliding in rivulets down his neck is extremely distracting. Goro’s throat dries up.

“I’ll win the next one, if you’ll allow one more match,” he says, unconvincingly.

An incredulous stare. “I’m tired. Fatigue is a handicap, you know.” 

“I’ll show you a real handicap,” Goro says, before baring his teeth and lunging at him. 

The sun is very near setting. By the time they’ve wrestled and splashed at each other enough to make both sore, the crowd has dwindled and the lifeguards are ushering people out of the pool. Groaning in disappointment, Ren heaves himself out of the water and shakes his hair out wet-dog style.

“Come on, they’re kicking us out. Don’t forget we’re getting ice cream,” Ren says, hauling Goro over onto the concrete. 

“I was hoping you’d forget about that,” Goro mutters. “Fine. It’s only fair.”

They shower and get changed first, a situation which leaves Goro wildly uncomfortable for the fact that Ren being naked near him and not for purposes of sex makes his head spin. They haven’t had sex in so long now—it’s been nonstop work, otherwise slacking off and making unsuccessful passes at each other.

Are pool hangouts and movies covered in the finer details of their arrangement? Perhaps it would have been a good idea to outline a contract, after all. Goro doesn’t know where to define their relationship anymore, whether sex is still on the table, or if they’re even rivals, if instead they’re actually…

Well. Asking now would be stupid, wouldn’t it. 

“I want mint chocolate chip,” Ren says at the ice cream shop. Goro buys them ice cream. 

They sit at a table underneath a dotted parasol, Goro’s knees knocking into Ren’s as he settles in. They’re both too goddamn tall and Goro has to settle his thighs in-between Ren’s for space, and that’s normal, of course; it should be, with how often they’ve touched in the past. It’s for practicality reasons, anyway, not because they’re dating or anything. Of course. Of course. 

Goro’s back prickles with sweat as he digs away at his expensive ice cream. Two stacks of mango and strawberry-flavored ice cream in a glass layered with cream and fruit taste divine in the summer heat, but Ren is looking at him like he’s crazy, with his plain one-scoop mint chocolate chip on a cone.

“That’s… a lot,” he says, eyeing the cherry that Goro plucks from the top and sticks in his mouth. Goro contemplates spitting the stem at him, just to see how he would react. 

He flicks the stem away instead. “After today, I think I deserve a little reward. Is that an issue?” 

“What? I’m just saying your sweet tooth is a little out of hand,” Ren mutters.

“Aw,” Goro nudges his thigh, “don’t be a killjoy. Try it.” 

“No, thanks. I think it would give me a headache.” Ren spares one more derisive glance at Goro’s sugary abomination before biting into his melted ice cream. Goro never anticipated that Ren’s messy habits would fill him with anything but disgust; just a few days ago he was losing hairs over Ren’s inability to eat his nachos properly, and now he’s smiling over something as simple as Ren licking ice cream off of his fingers. 

It was inevitable, really. The final nail in the coffin. 

“Thank you for inviting me out,” Goro says after a moment, not for the sake of propriety but because he actually _means_ it. He couldn’t have imagined enjoying a break off of work if not for Ren’s company.

Ren scratches the side of his cheek. “It’s no problem.”

“Right…” A pause elapses. There’s a burning sensation in Goro’s throat, and he wants to suppress it, _has to_ suppress it,but he needs answers like he needs air. “Why?” 

“Why what?”

Goro sighs. “Ren, you and I aren’t friends. And we’re certainly not _friendly_ with each other. If this was just your way of getting free ice cream out of me…” 

“What? No, of course not.” Ren frowns. “What’s the matter with you? Didn’t you have fun?”  

“I—” Goro drops his gaze. “Yes, I did.” 

“Good. That’s all I really cared about. I didn’t really care about the ice cream.” 

“Then… why?”

Ren shrugs one shoulder. “You said you don’t go out often, so… I wanted to take you somewhere.”

Goro blinks at him, blinks again because he doesn’t believe it. “You remembered that.” 

“Yeah. Is that so surprising?” 

“Ah, well…” Goro blushes. “I wasn’t expecting…” _… you to be thoughtful,_ is what he almost says, but he recalls the way Ren remembered his posts about sushi, how he listened to Goro ramble during a movie and smiled at his enthusiasm, and knows Ren’s thoughtfulness isn’t the real issue behind this. He entertains the fact that, against all expectations, Ren might actually _like_ him the way friends like each other, and suddenly all his theories and counterarguments quiet into distant noise.

“… Ren.” He licks his lips, tasting sweat and ice cream. “I’ve been unfair to you, haven’t I?”

Ren shrugs again, but it’s more of a spasm than anything. “It’s no big deal.”

“Stop saying that.” Goro kicks him in the shin. “If I say so, then it _is._ Come now, be honest with me. Do you hate it?”

Ren makes a questioning noise. Goro says, “I mean our rivalry.”

“Oh…” Ren pinches his eyebrows together. “Well… no, I don’t hate it. It’s kind of fun, actually. You’re… hm.” He rubs his knee absently against Goro’s—an unconscious attempt at consolation, perhaps? “You’re interesting to talk to. And unique. Even though you kind of stress me out sometimes, I enjoy our competitions. Would I have continued this if I hated it? I guess that’s what I’m trying to say.” He looks up at Goro, less stone-faced now and more childishly expectant. “Do _you_ hate it?”

Goro’s not prepared for this question. He knows one thing for sure: “I hated you, mostly.” The words hang in the air for a moment, left for proper digestion, then: “But it’s difficult to say for sure. I think, at some point, I started to enjoy it as well… but when that was exactly, I can’t recall.” He swallows. “In fact, when I try to think of how this all started… I can barely remember a thing. I wonder why.”

Ren stifles a snort, smile uncharacteristically wide. “You were probably being pompous, as usual.”

Goro glares. “Actually, I think I’m starting to remember.”

“Asshole.” Ren steps on his foot, but Goro is quick to counter, aiming for Ren’s crotch. Ren catches his foot before it can strike true. “Hey! My dick is important to me, you know.” 

Goro bites his tongue before he can say something colossally stupid like _it’s important to me too_ and simply huffs. “God. Even _that_ is less irritating than usual.” 

“That’s… reassuring, I think.”

“It should be.” Goro's unable to hide the tease in his voice. “Ren… I misjudged you, before. For that, I’m sorry.”

Though he can’t tell, he guesses Ren is smiling at that, because his next words are lighter than usual: “I also misjudged you. So let’s just call it even.” 

Something bright and buoyant inflates in his chest, a small, disbelieving smile curling at his lips. But the glee is gone as quick as it came, and is quickly replaced with dread. 

 

* * *

 

“You’ve been in a good mood lately.” 

Goro lifts his head from his pillow, hair sticking up in every direction. “Huh. Have I?”

“Well,” Makoto says, marking the page she’s on in her book and laying it gingerly atop Goro’s desk, “for one, you haven’t barged into my room to complain about Amamiya-kun for nearly a week now. Did something good happen?”

He watches her walk over, settling on the opposite end of his bed, then buries his face back into the pillow. “Not necessarily. It’s, ah… he’s much better company than I thought.” The memory of the two of them huddled close in the summer heat, eating ice cream and laughing over old disputes, brings a flush to his cheeks so bright he thinks it spreads to his ears. 

Makoto graciously does not comment on it. Instead, she shuffles backwards on the bed until her legs are fully spread out in front of her, hands planted at her sides. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

“It _is_ a bad thing,” Goro rejoins, voice muffled by the pillow.

“I don’t follow.” 

“You wouldn’t understand.” He clutches the sheets. “If this keeps going, I…” And with a sinking feeling, he realizes it may be too late—that this was decided for him the moment he let himself fall into this routine of theirs, of casual touches growing less casual by the moment and desires far beyond that of satisfying the body but of satisfying the _heart._ Of remembering what it’s like not to be lonely, of having someone who understands him beneath that front he puts on. Of friendship, and of trust. 

“Goro…” Makoto pauses, and then he feels the mattress sink as she lays down next to him. “Hey, look at me. Are you sure you’re okay with this?”

He’s never sure of anything when it comes to Ren Amamiya. One moment he’s the worst man to ever walk this earth, and the next he’s the closest friend Goro’s made since Hifumi—and that’s the issue, isn’t it? That with the slightest indication that anyone might want him for _him_ , a stupid seed of hope grows, spreads wildly until it’s bound him limb-to-limb and choked him with its promise, sunk its roots in deep enough that when he’s inevitably ruined it all, it kills him. 

He doesn’t want a dream. He wants reality, and the reality is this: he was better off keeping Ren at a distance, because now, he doesn’t think he could ever let go of him.

“Goro? Are you okay?”

Goro bites his lip, but the words spill out anyway. “Makoto, could I tell you something?”

Makoto shrugs. “I get the feeling you’ll tell me anyway.”

No response. Makoto tilts her head at him.

“Ren and I… we’re sleeping together.”

She releases a long sigh, like she was holding her breath. “Yeah, I know.” He doesn’t even bother asking how she knows, and she doesn’t explain either; he was never exactly discreet with the evidence once he entered the safety of his apartment. “How long has this been going on?” Makoto asks instead. 

“A month after classes started.” He rolls onto his back, staring glassy-eyed at the ceiling. “I should have called it off. I shouldn’t have let it come this far, but I don’t know how to stop. I don’t know how to deny him, I… I’ve grown too used to him. And I haven’t felt this way for so long. I fear that when he realizes he’s had enough of me, I’ll…”

“Hold on.” Makoto leans over him so that he can see the way her mouth twists. “What, do you think he’s going to—to leave you, or something?” 

“…  Yes? Someone like me—”

“Don’t say things like that!” Makoto smacks him on the shoulder. “He likes you a lot, I can tell. And, well… if you’ve fought this much and he hasn’t already left, I think the chances he will later are pretty slim. It’s not as if he hasn’t already seen your worst side, right?” 

Goro fiddles silently with a loose thread on the sheets. Ren’s admission from earlier returns to him: _would I have continued this if I hate it?_ and it’s enough to make his pulse thunder loud in his ears, every thought, every conjecture he had turned to dust at his feet. “… I couldn’t,” he says, finally, effectively tongue-tied. “I-I, I can’t.” He doesn’t know what to do, what to think anymore. A broken laugh escapes him. “Even if what you say is true, Ren deserves—he deserves—”

“Deserves what?”

 _Better than me._ It’s true in more than just one sense.

“I’m sorry,” he says simply, craning his neck to face her. “I shouldn’t worry you any further. Like I said before, this is something I can handle by myself.” 

“Goro…” Makoto considers him for a moment before she rolls onto her back and mirrors his sprawled-out position. “You and Sis always handle things by yourself.”

Goro frowns. “I can’t help it.”

“I know. I’m just saying.” Makoto doesn’t sound particularly angry, either, just observant. “Honestly… I wish you didn’t have to. I wish Mom hadn’t… left us to deal with this alone.” She wraps her arms around herself. “I’m sorry for bringing this up.”

“No, don’t be.” He faces the ceiling again, wondering what Makoto is seeing in it, if she’s imagining the same weary smile he sees in his dreams sometimes. “I miss her, too.” 

They lie there in silence, only the sound of their gentle breathing disturbing the quiet, before Makoto snorts out of nowhere and says, “I can’t imagine you ever telling Sis about this. If she knew—”

“God, she would be _livid.”_ The two of them unravel into laughter, encouraging Goro further: “I can already hear her lecturing me on safe sex practices. Ugh, it pains me to think about it.” 

“What, are you not having safe sex?”

“That’s—he’s clean!” Goro explodes. “And he hasn’t taken any other partners yet.”

Makoto cocks a brow at him. “You know how that sounds, right?” 

Mortified beyond belief, Goro reaches for his pillow and swings it through the air, missing Makoto by a hair when she rolls off the bed and hits the floor with a thud. Before he can react she’s appropriated his other pillow and launched it straight at his face, so direct of a hit he falls off the bed right after her. 

“That’ll teach you to mess with me,” she warns, and then, in a more amused tone, “So, even you can get embarrassed by something like this? Color me shocked.”

“Yes, because you’re my _sister.”_ He glowers, peeling the pillow from his face. “And anyways, anyone would be embarrassed by that. It’s not exactly conversation material.”

“You’re nineteen. I thought you would have gotten over it.”

“Oh, and _you_ have?”

She just stares at him from over the bed, eyes searching, awaiting another pillow to the face, maybe, but neither of them move. When she deems it safe, she picks herself up and rounds the bed to offer him a hand. “Come on. Let’s make ourselves lunch. Wouldn’t do us any good to slack off for much longer, hm?” 

“Hmm.” Goro pushes himself up on his elbows, wanting to stall for just a moment, to avoid responsibility for a little longer—but he recognizes the value of a healthy meal, and sighs dramatically, fastening a tight grip on her hand.

 

* * *

 

Ren calls him on Tuesday evening, a day before their presentation. They technically finished the PowerPoint on Sunday, went over the finer points of their speeches after their little ice cream date, but Ren wants to “ease his nerves” and thinks having Goro around will help, so. Well, here he is.

“Thank you for coming out today.” Ren smiles, twisting a piece of his fringe between his fingers. According to him, there’s no destination in particular; they’ll simply indulge in whatever catches their eye during the walk along the strip, possibly nothing at all, in which case they’ll keep wandering as usual. It’s somewhat daunting, truth be told—to walk without a specific direction. Plans keep him stable. They don’t leave him guessing, don’t leave room for much stumbling, either.

“I have to say, I’m surprised,” Goro says casually. He slants a look at Ren, at his eyes which glitter under the fairy lights of the street. “I never pegged you the type to get nervous over anything.” 

Ren massages the back of his neck in what seems to be embarrassment. “Eh, I guess. I just don’t want to disappoint you.” Goro’s brows shoot up at that, and Ren laughs airily, even as his face flushes from the confession. “C’mon, you’re the hot shot between us both. I look like a lost animal standing next to you.” 

“Enough of that.” Goro huffs. “You’re competent enough. Almost level with me, I dare say.”

“That’s the highest praise I’ve ever heard from you,” Ren mumbles. “Did you hit your head on the way here or something?”

Goro can’t help the laugh that slips out, despite the irritation that floods in by habit. It’s almost secondary to the contentment he feels now, walking side-by-side with Ren, the way it should be, never in front, never behind. “Well. It may very well be the last, so watch your mouth.” He grins at Ren, who hides his responding smile behind his hand. _So cute,_ Goro thinks. And thinks twice when the thought isn’t surrounded by malice or jealousy of any sort. 

“A—Anyways,” Goro says, desperate to latch onto something other than _that_. “I’m certain the presentation will be a success. You’ve had me as a partner, after all.”

“Ah, there’s your famous confidence,” Ren drawls. He turns around, looking Goro straight in the eye, and Goro is helpless to the pull of his gaze, how it’s even softer than usual. “That’s what I like about you. But it’s okay to take a break, you know.” He smiles slowly, somehow gentle and reprimanding at the same time. Before Goro can parse the meaning of his words, he turns back around and continues forward, his hands in his pockets. “Hey, I see a boba place ahead. Let’s check it out.”

Goro walks with Ren to the aforementioned shop and orders a rose milk tea, Ren ordering some fries for them to snack on. Ren doesn’t care to linger, though; he claims that boba shops have too much noise and that they “reek” of college students and so they find a nice quiet fountain at the end of the street to sit and eat at while Ren talks about how much tapioca pearls he can fit in his mouth. 

“You’re going to choke on that,” Goro tells him, once Ren is on his tenth pearl. 

He swallows them one by one before speaking: “My mouth can handle a lot of things, Goro.”

Definitely a double entendre, but Goro is too busy turning Ren’s words from earlier over and over in his head to be particularly affected by it. _It’s okay to take a break,_ he said. 

Was that the real reason for this excursion, then? Something unrelated to work—an excuse to “unwind”, as he put it before? It’s true that since Ren, he’s been a lot more carefree than usual. It’s a bit terrifying, actually—the idea that he might be going soft over a boy, losing all sense of grace and organization because he can’t put a cork in his goddamn feelings. And yet. Being with Ren makes him want to _try_. Try to be more relaxed, try to be more open, try to have more _fun,_ all of that bullshit he previously wrote off as detrimental to his survival. Does Ren feel the same way about him? Does he come out of his shell more, become someone different when he’s around Goro?

“Is something the matter?” Ren asks, likely sensing the awkward lull in their conversation.

“A-Ah… nothing.” Goro tucks a loose strand of hair behind his ear. “Actually—about what you said,” he blurts, and immediately cringes at his less-than-smooth delivery. “About my ‘famous confidence’… well, it isn’t as simple for me as you think.”

Ren looks meaningfully at him. “I kinda figured.”

“Haha… of course.” Goro smiles bitterly. “It’s so easy for you to see right through me. It’s as if you’re an esper.” Ren laughs, light and easy enough that Goro can’t bring himself to be angry at him, and he swats Ren on the arm, taking care to keep it gentle. “I’m serious! I have an image to maintain, you know, and—and you pierce through it like it’s nothing. It’s rather frustrating, to be honest.”

Ren shakes his head brightly. “I’m thankful, though. I… don’t want you to be someone you’re not, when we’re together.” He sets down their box of fries so he can plant his hand at his side, unfortunately close to where Goro’s own hand rests. “We’re rivals, you know. You can be honest with me.” 

“… I don’t see why the two are related.” Goro sighs. “But very well. Just for tonight.”

Ren lifts his head towards the sky. The fountain behind them quiets to a distant trickle, every one of Goro’s senses focused entirely on Ren. “Don’t you ever get tired of it?” Ren says, after a moment.

Goro hums. “Of what?”

“Performing.”

Goro clicks his tongue. “… Sometimes.”

“Why do you do it, then?” Ren asks.

Goro turns his gaze to the stars, where Ren’s is. “The same reason everyone else does it, I suppose.”

There’s silence for a minute more, the din of the crowded street the only thing centering Goro in this moment, at the edge of a fountain and not falling into the stars, not being swallowed whole by the sky. “Do you think of leaving it behind, sometimes?” Ren mutters.

Goro looks down at his shoes. As the dizziness settles, he realizes he was leaning so far back he nearly fell into the fountain, the edges of his palms just barely grazing water. “All the time.”

Ren faces him, determined all of a sudden. “I can help you.”

“Help me what?” Goro scoffs. “Change my identity? It isn’t that easy, you know.”

“That’s not what I mean. Just…”  He taps a restless rhythm against the fountain ledge. “I could help you forget about it. Just for a little while.” 

Goro wants to say _so much_ to that—that Ren already helps, that being with him blocks everything out but the two of them, that his presence is always so freeing. How that, when Goro first met Ren, a free spirit with an agenda of his own, never swayed by the tides of the crowd, he couldn’t help but admire him—for being someone Goro never was, never could be.

But instead of telling him as much, he simply smiles, takes a sip of his tea and fixes his eyes on the mingling lights of the street. The smooth keys of a piano drip down from afar, mixed with laughter, mixed with the water flowing in quiet streams behind them. He hears Ren take a deep breath beside him; when he sneaks a glance over, his cheeks are flushed a deep red, gray eyes half-lidded and turned toward the floor. The words escape Goro in a rush. “Thank you, Ren. For… putting up with me, I suppose.”

“Ha,” Ren shakes his head, “‘putting up’ with you isn’t quite right, but… you’re welcome.” 

Goro wonders if kissing him right now would be stupid (is it possible to platonically kiss someone, but in a friends-who-occasionally-fuck kind of way?) and is about three seconds from leaving it up to fate when the sound of footsteps interrupts his thoughts, followed by an all-too-familiar voice.

“Goro-kun?” 

Goro freezes, whipping around to come face-to-face with green eyes just as wide as his own, eyes he has looked into far too often. 

“Hifumi-chan?”

“Ah…” She blushes, folding her hands behind her. “Amamiya-kun, too. Hello to you both. Am I interrupting something?”

Before Goro can summon his voice, Ren interjects, “Not at all,” and glances questioningly at Goro before addressing Hifumi again. “Togo-san, right? From social psychology.” 

“Yes, that would be me.” She turns to Goro, seeming to immediately notice something off with him; it’s only natural, with how attuned she is to all of his tells. Before, he thought it a blessing, a testament to how close he and Hifumi were. Nowadays, it’s more of a burden.

“Could I speak with Goro-kun for a moment?” Hifumi asks all of a sudden. 

Goro looks at Ren, who shakes his head, albeit a bit confusedly. “Yeah, that’s fine. I should be going home soon anyway.” 

“… If you insist.” Goro offers him a sheepish smile before placing a hand on his shoulder (it wouldn’t be appropriate to hug, would it? and god forbid if he actually kissed him like he considered earlier). He stands to join Hifumi and loops arms with her, more force of habit than anything, but he sees the way Ren’s eyes widen at the gesture and feels cold all over.

“It was nice seeing you, Amamiya-kun,” Hifumi says with a wave, and Ren waves back awkwardly. 

“I’m sorry to cut this short,” Goro adds, apologetic, “but I had a lot of fun. Thank you.”

“I’m glad,” Ren says, and that’s that. 

Goro sees the look that Ren gives him, then—affectionate, if a little sad—and cannot bear to look any longer, nudging Hifumi along before he can do something terribly reckless. She leads him through the street in silence, their arms still comfortably interlocked. He always feels such a strange calm in her presence. Where Ren leaves him wound-up, near-shaking with anticipation, Hifumi winds him down, soothing the thoughts which scream in a loop in his head. 

Which is why it had been such a huge loss for him when they broke up. Some days he craves it, the stability she provides in lieu of the unpredictability Ren is always chasing. But like with Ren, Hifumi deserves something better. Something other than the brokenness Goro nurses close to his chest.

“Has your project with Amamiya-kun been going well?” Hifumi asks, after a moment. She eyes the milk tea still in his palm, half-drunk already. Goro hands it over without a word. 

“It has. But I have a feeling you already know that.” 

Hifumi sighs, a defeated smile on her lips. “I concede.”

“Who told you?”

“Makoto.”

“Ah…” Goro smiles morosely, too resigned to feel even the slightest bit betrayed over it. “I figured. She wouldn’t happen to have mentioned… ?”

Hifumi sips at the straw noisily. “Mm… No. But I picked up on some clues.”

That shouldn’t come as a shock to him, but still, he feels his face heat up at the implications and turns away to hide his blush. “My apologies, Hifumi-chan.”

“For what?” Hifumi asks.

“For not being completely honest with you.” Goro tightens his grip on her arm. “I know I promised to be more open from now on, but it’s just…”

“Do you feel guilty?” Hifumi ventures, squeezing his bicep in turn. 

Goro grunts softly. Hifumi bumps her shoulder against his. “I thought I told you we’re past that. Goro-kun, it’s about time we start seeing other people. It wouldn’t be… healthy for us, you know, to hold back. I’m happy the way we are now. You are too, right?” 

Goro tilts his gaze to the floor, willing back sudden tears. “Hifumi-chan, I promised I would get better for you. A-And I feel like…”

“Goro-kun.” She stops him at a corner where there aren’t many passerby, seizing both of his arms in a firm, but tender grip. “Even if I’m not the one you’re dating… that won’t change how much I care for you. I gave you my word, remember? And you gave me yours.” One of her hands slides down to take his own trembling one and lift it to her chest. “Tell me you remember.” 

A sharp intake of breath, and then he nods jerkily. “Of course I do. I-I’m not going anywhere. I would never leave you, but… Ren is… I can’t…”

“Shh.” Hifumi strokes the back of his hand with her thumb. “You can.”

“I’m not—”

“You are,” Hifumi reassures, squeezing his hand. “I believe in you. Even if it was someone else, I would still believe in you. So if not for yourself, do it for me. Won’t you, Goro?” 

He grits his teeth, tries to stop the tears from falling because he _can’t_ , not when it would feel too much like foul play with how indebted he is to Hifumi, and yet—and yet she said _do it for me,_ and it suffocates him, knowing Hifumi may never experience the new him at his entirety while Ren will. But even so—love is—it isn’t just between partners, is it? While Hifumi deserves something special it’s something he can still give her, even when they won’t be seeing each other— _right?_

“Goro-kun, look at me.”

He pries his eyes open, finding immediate solace in the swirling greens of her irises, so assured despite the gloss of unshed tears. She lets go of his hand to place her cool, dry palm against his cheek, and he leans against it, heaving a sigh through his nose. 

“I’ll still love you too,” he says, desperate. “You were—the first person to truly accept me as I was. I could never forget what you’ve done for me.”

“I wouldn’t forget what you’ve done for me, either.” Hifumi smiles. “The conflict with my mother, and then my shogi career…”

“I’d do it all over again, if I had to.”

“Yes,” Hifumi says, “yes, exactly. You needn’t better yourself for my sake. The things you’ve accomplished in my name… isn’t that payment enough?” She wipes away something from his cheek—a tear, he realizes with a start. “If anyone, the one you should be fighting for is yourself.”  

Goro inhales shakily, covering the hand on his face with his own. “You know what I think about that.”

“I do. But you deserve it,” Hifumi says, then pinches his cheek. “You deserve that, and more.” 

“Okay,” Goro yields, and yelps when she pulls his cheek harder. “Okay, okay, I get it! Stop!”

She giggles, then, releasing him, and pushes the bubble tea to his chest which by now is just pearls and liquid residue—he forgot how much she disliked chewing the tapioca. “Let’s go back to yours. I need to practice my speech with Makoto.” She then brushes past him to cross the street.

Before she can reach the crosswalk, he catches her arm and gathers her against his chest in a hug. Hifumi starts, shoulders going stiff before she responds in kind.

“Thank you,” he whispers, holding her especially close, because while it may not be their last one it will certainly never be in this context again, will not be given with his whole heart the way it is now, like he has everything to lose. A final farewell, the hand that releases after months of clutching at the precipice.

“Of course.” Hifumi nuzzles into the crook of his neck. “Always.”

Eventually, he will have to let go of her and surrender to the sea. But for now—for tonight—he can grasp on tight. So he does, hungrily, greedily.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> end notes!!  
> \- there was gonna be a sex scene at the end, but that would have made this an outrageously long chapter because of all the build up. i'm sorry if you were expecting one i PROMISE the next chapter will be more fun  
> \- i've been religiously avoiding p5r spoilers so i honestly don't know how goro is characterized there. forgive me if my interpretation of him is contradictory (and please don't tell me what he's like i wanna find out for myself)  
> \- i was SUUUPER worried about writing hifumi, i love her but i don't think i've nailed her personality yet :( i hope her scene wasn't too awkward or unusual!!  
> \- i have a playlist for this now. it's mostly chill vibes + some ballads but you can check it out [here](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0NpNuRR7Hs331HL3SYTfAg?si=ZkL73O8FS-WaUWxb8RZM_g)
> 
> thanks for reading!! again, please leave comments and kudos, they serve as great motivation. i'm on twitter @nonnecheri if you want to talk <3


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